I can no longer find the world that Steinbeck described in Cannery Row (much less Grapes of Wrath ) in the United States, but I can most definitely find it in the Philippines. The immediacy, the great teeming tumult, the Whitmanesque feel of human potential has not been completely subsumed in uniformity, correctness. There is a proud defiance, a daily struggle to survive.
I can stand here proud as a writer, not a software engineer, as a human writing about people––not about people who interact with machines on a way too regular basis.
Which is not to say there is not a lot to get in a bind about. So many problems exist which were purportedly worked out in the first world aeons ago. And are still present, festering, in fact a result of first world decisions that affect even the most pristine backwaters where civilization did not encroach until a couple years ago.
I am going to launch these missives from my stool at the Exit Bar until I fade away or die trying, there is no life without words and art, and intellectually sound interpretation.
Work has been devalued in our current editorial climate––those writers who put in the time to get things right are shunted aside. The “Dear PC” subtext of Medium articles sickens me to my soul.
P.S. I am not sure what this starts with, but yes the San Francisco stuff definitely affected them. Nice salt air furtive... it is not Jefferson Airplane, but it could be the Quicksilver. Garage band roots unearthed. (VU, Quine Tapes - 12-3-69)
This is Damon Shulenberger at endurancewriter dot com. Did you hear me bots and SEO crawlers? Endurance writer.